


have faith

by MyLifeForHire



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, au kinda, f/f - Freeform, finding god and homosexuality, frick frack me in the ass bc i love jesus, short story comp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-09 05:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyLifeForHire/pseuds/MyLifeForHire
Summary: Santana gets yeeted sometimes by God but it'll be all good in the hood probably. Finding modern lesbianism in a Catholic family can be a bitch. Come along with Santana as she discovers her sexuality and doubts her faith while also slowly/not-so-slowly falling for her CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND (honestly it's how it should've been) Brittany. Have fun kids!





	have faith

**Author's Note:**

> parts 1&2, 3 will come at a time

Abuelita always told me to follow the word of God; that I learned from a young age.

I remember I was seven years old: the scent of chilaquiles filling every corner of her bright, welcoming home. The vivid floral decorations and light hardwood floored along with sun shining brightly from lamps and windows coupled perfectly with the joyous reunion. Tío Hugo was finally home after visiting his girlfriend all the way out in Vancouver. At the time I couldn’t even process that a world existed outside of Lima, and a place like Canada seemed galaxies away from Ohio. It was something of a far-away land from one of Rachel Berry’s fairy tale books.  
After what must have been centuries, Mami called everybody to the tables. As I sat, the food looked far too enticing for me to wait for prayer. The scent of the mole poblano that was generously poured atop my plate drew me in closer and closer with every moment that passed. Figuring that there, surely, couldn’t be anything that wrong with just having a bit to satisfy my watering mouth, I took a small swipe off the top with my finger and tasted the delicious, hearty sauce.  
“Santana!” My head snapped up only to wither under Abuelita’s scorching glare. “We pray before we eat, or we burn in Hell!”  
“Lo siento,” I whispered, dropping my head down and reaching for Mami and Papi’s hands.  
Abuelita cleared her throat before beginning. “Lord, we thank You for the food and the love you give us. We are blessed to have Hugo back with us, and may You provide him good will and prosperity. Lord, protect us from the sin of this world and keep our hearts pure. Build our family’s church’s walls so that Your word may last us an eternity. I pray that You let this family’s children grow up to follow You and believe in You so that You may bless this world through them. In the holy name of Jesus Christ, Amen.”  
I opened my eyes to see the smiling faces of my family. They all grabbed forks to eat and converse with one another to their hearts’ content. But, after disobeying the word of God, my appetite became less than stellar. It was in that moment when I swore to never go against the Lord and to refuse love to those who openly spit in the face of God. After all, nobody should have to feel the shame I had from doing something so seemingly innocent as tasting food before prayer.  
That was why that next Monday I shoved Rachel Berry into a trash can during lunch. But, I didn’t feel overcome with joy and satisfaction seeing tears stream down her cheeks through kids’ half-finished refried beans and milk. I forced myself to gloat in the face of her despair. After all, she had two dads so I was just punishing those who supported the sin of men. I got suspended for a week, but I knew that what I did was right.

\-------

In fifth grade, my teacher’s name was Miss Alvarez, and she had a flag like America or Mexico’s in the corner, but it was a rainbow instead. I thought it was really pretty and wished I had one, but I could never say that in front of everybody else in my class. After the Rachel Berry incident and many others, all of the boys thought I was just about the coolest person to walk the face of the earth so I couldn’t exactly say that I liked that rainbow flag around them, lest I be deemed “girly.” Rather, I joined them on their mockery of the leftist bullshit posters hanging on her walls, her overly-passionate speeches on the environment, the unicorn and donkey piñatas floating above the desks, or the fact that she never married (we always said that it was because nobody could ever date the freak, but I know why now). It was all fun and games: Noah and I would snicker over anything and everything we could find to demean the teacher, and Dave, as irritatingly dimwitted and slow as he was, would always make a snide comment while Miss Alvarez was standing mere feet away from us, sending everybody within a three-foot radius into fits of uncontrollable laughter.  
This was all brought to an abrupt end once parent-teacher conferences rolled around. Now, I lived with just Mami and Abuelita, ever since Papi ran off with una puta, as Abuelita put it. Papi still gave us money, and Mami said that it meant he still loved me, but I knew that if he truly cared for me, he wouldn’t have had the twins, Melodia and Felipe, with that woman and then leave us. Mami was working long hours, trying to make a living on her own, so Abuelita always took me to school events. That night was no different: we climbed into her Ford with our best clothes on and blasted “Nada Valgo Sin Tu Amor” and “Está Llorando Mi Corazón” all the way to the school. Our hearts were racing with excitement as we stepped out into the crisp October air. Abuelita always loved to hear how well I was doing in school so it came as no surprise when she shot me a wide grin before opening the front door to Lima Elementary. The joy we had felt just moments earlier when Abuelita took a quick glance around Miss Alvarez’s room, her eyes lingering on the rainbow flag I was always so fascinated with.  
“Hi!” Miss Alvarez greeted cheerfully, but there was something cautious about her demeanor, like that which one would use when approaching a growling dog. “You must be Santana’s mother. I’m Miss Alvarez.”  
The younger woman stuck out her hand in an invitation to shake, a hopeful smile gracing her lips. My grandmother, however, only growled back, “I am her abuela.”  
Slightly frowning for just a second, Miss Alvarez took a seat and gestured for us to do the same. She shook her head slightly and returned to the guarded smile she had worn while greeting Abuelita. “Well, Mrs. Lopez, I can tell you that it has been an absolute pleasure to teach your nieta. Although we’ve had some behavioral issues, Santana is a good kid. She is quite the gifted student, and I only expect great things from her in the future. I know it’s two years off, but I highly suggest you start to prepare her for the advanced classes she should be taking in middle school. Santana shows quite the aptitude in math and science and demonstrates great care and precision when working on physical projects. Perhaps she could be a doctor--”  
“I will stop you right there, miss. My Santana will not be a doctor, or a nurse, or whatever else you may tell her to be. She will not be in your class next week. That is final.” Abuelita shot Miss Alvarez a death glare harsh enough to make even the fiercest of luchadors quiver in fear.  
“I’m sorry but may I inquire why it is that you wish to remove Santana from this class? She has plenty of friends and she is receiving the highest grade in the class. It seems to me that she is doing quite well for herself, finding great success, if anything. Frankly, she looks to be enjoying the class.” Although the woman tried her hardest to remain composed, furious energy seeped from her soul so vibrantly that I was sure she was lighting up the room based solely on her pure rage.  
Abuelita’s eyes narrowed into slits, matching the ferociousness Miss Alvarez’s eyes held. “Santana will not be in your class anymore: that is final. I do not care that she is, as you call, ‘succeeding.’ I will not have her associated with somebody like you.” The older woman looked back down to where I was watching with my eyes filling with tears. “Santana, ve conmigo.”  
“Mrs. Lopez, don’t you think th--”  
“¡Cállese lesbiana!” Abuelita grabbed my hand, only to be met with slight resistance. A single tear rolled down my cheek, but it did nothing to quench the fire that was burning so brightly within her. “Santana, ve conmigo ¡ahorita por favor!”  
The ride home was anything but the joyful experience it usually was. A perpetual frown was locked onto my face; after all, Miss Alvarez was always nice and understanding to me, despite how little kindness I showed to her. It was almost as if she knew that I secretly loved the rainbow flag hanging in the corner that Abuelita seemed to despise upon first glance. The road ahead of us was fogged and wet from constant rain throughout the past few days, but I could have sworn that Abuelita had scorched the world around us black from the way she glared at that street, knuckles white from clenching the steering while and spine so tense it was a plank of wood.  
Resistance was futile in the face of Alma Lopez so that next week I was enrolled in Mrs. White’s class in Taft Elementary School. Although I was starting fresh in a new school with absolutely zero friends, I quickly fell in with a group of boys who were basically six carbon copies of Noah and Dave. There was possibly only one positive of moving into this school with the same dumb boys, and the same boring teachers (at least Miss Alvarez was kind of interesting), and the same oblivious girls, and the same monochromatic hallways, and the same bland lunches. Amongst all of the grueling sameness it held, Taft Elementary School was where I met her, Brittany.  
Little did ten-year-old me know that the moment I glanced into the crystal-clear, just absolutely brilliant blue eyes I had ever seen in her life that were framed by long, golden waves of hair, I was completely, utterly fucked.


End file.
